Page 8 of The Duke's Impossible Deal
How dare he?
“And because I am a woman, you think I am incapable of looking after my family? Of saving us from ruin?”
“I do not doubt that you could do almost anything you set your mind to.” His words knocked the wind from her sails, and the angry retort she had planned died on her lips. “Unfortunately, plenty of other men will dismiss you simply because of your sex. And those men hold the power and the purse strings.”
“And how do I know you will not do the same? For all you compliment me, how do I know you do not think as they do?”Rowen swallowed as the phantom scent of sandalwood rose between them. She forced it away.
He is dead.
“I suppose you will have to trust me.” The Duke’s smile did not reach his eyes. “After all, few men will do business with a woman, and even fewer are to be trusted. Even if you were to get the money for the repairs, how will you afford to send your son to Eton and then to university?”
“He does not have to go. He has a governess, and I can teach him everything he needs or find someone else to teach him.” Rowen rolled her shoulders back, grateful that her voice did not break.
The Duke made a dismissive gesture with his hand. “Which would be fine if boys were sent to those institutions for purely academic purposes. But they are not. That is where connections are made, where he will learn the inner workings of male Society—something that you cannot teach him. He is an earl; he will be expected to follow the path of every other noble, and that means Eton and university. To deny him that will keep him on the outside. You of all people know how much the ton loves to judge.”
Rowen nodded, but said nothing.
“And of course, there is your daughter to think about. She will need a dowry for when she gets married. My understanding is that it costs rather a lot to have a daughter out in Society—what with dresses, accessories, and of course such intensive tutelagein airs and graces.” He counted off each one on his fingers. “Your brother asked me to look after you, and that is what I intend to do.”
“But why? Because he sent you a letter asking you to? You barely know me, and you do not know my children. Why would you do this for us?” Rowen’s eyes traced his face, lingering on the thin scar that stretched from his left ear, along his neck, and out of sight.
For a moment, the Duke said nothing. His eyes glazed over, drifting from her face to something that only he could see. Rowen saw his muscles tense, his jaw clench, and wondered if she had managed to get through to him.
“Your brother saved my life. In truth, we have both saved each other from harm on several occasions, but the last time… Well, had it not been for him, I would not be standing before you today.” He ran a hand along the scar. “On that day, I swore to him that should anything happen to him, I would care for you and your children. And I am a man of my word.”
“But marriage…” Rowen trailed off.
The Duke let out a long, slow breath, running a hand through his sodden hair. “It is the only way. You yourself have pointed out that I could not financially support you otherwise. My money will be yours, and you and your children will benefit from the protection of my title. Your son will go to the right schools, and your daughter will have a dowry that will see her safe and cared for, no matter what her husband does.”
Rowen decided that this was not the moment to tell the Duke that she was not convinced that Georgia had any intention of following convention. After all, it would not change the situation.
At least, not for the better.
“You know that this is the only way.” The Duke’s voice was soft, before he swept into a low bow, a smirk on his face. “Most women would leap at the chance to marry me.”
“You have already said that I am not most women.”
Exceptional.
Her heart skittered as she remembered the compliment he had paid her, not as though he were flattering her but as if he had simply been stating a fact.
Get a hold of yourself, Rowen. Do not fall for a handsome face.
“If you are expecting me to leap into your arms, you will be disappointed.”
The Duke folded his arms across his chest, the fabric clinging to his muscles, and Rowen swallowed. “Perhaps, but I suspect you will still be my Duchess.”
Rowen’s mouth went dry, and she licked her lips, forcing herself to keep her voice steady. “I will, but my agreement is not unconditional. I will be your wife in name only, and you will keep your distance from my children.”
“Such fire, such spirit.”
The Duke took a step towards her, his eyes dancing with a dark and wild emotion that sent shivers down her spine. He reached a hand towards her face and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.
The tip of his finger brushed against her skin, and her breath caught. She felt like she was teetering on a knife-edge; the air around her felt charged. Her eyes darted to his full lips, curled into a smile that grew at her look.
Heat spread through her, and her eyes found his once more. They were dancing with amusement.
His voice was low and silky, making her think of the panther she had seen as a little girl. “Let us be clear with one another—I am the one helping you, not the other way around. What makes you think that I will let you place conditions on me?”
